


That Damn Tank Top

by inukagome15



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clothing Kink, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Kissing, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Romance, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-04 11:56:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inukagome15/pseuds/inukagome15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for a <a href="http://inukagome15.tumblr.com/post/69818920951/brandnewfashion-i-know-that-we-get-a-lot-of">tumblr prompt</a>. He’d never seen Tony like this – so stripped down of his usual armors and completely in his element. Or, Steve sees Tony in his tank top when he's in his workshop and likes it. A lot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a fill for a post on [tumblr](http://inukagome15.tumblr.com/post/69818920951/brandnewfashion-i-know-that-we-get-a-lot-of). It caught my fancy and I decided to give it a go.  
> It's mainly just fluff, and I didn't put much focus on the background or the history. It's primarily just some feel-good stuff that doesn't quite hit sex because I'm saving that for something else (coughweddingcough).
> 
> I forgot to mention, this is set after _Iron Man 3_ in my head, 'cause I wasn't really picturing an arc reactor in my head... But you guys can picture that reactor if you want.
> 
> EDIT: The first chapter's PG-13; the next one is explicit.

**Five**

The first time Steve saw Tony in nothing but a tank top and worn jeans he almost dropped the plate of food Bruce had shoved in his hands to give to Tony. He managed to not drop the plate, but there was no stopping the heat stirring in his stomach and the way his breathing picked up just a little.

Luckily for Steve, Tony didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary because he was too busy tweaking something that looked suspiciously like a TV with legs.

Tony’s distraction gave Steve the perfect opportunity to stare. He’d never seen Tony like this – so stripped down of his usual armors and completely in his element. He wasn’t perfectly put together the way he usually was, instead being streaked with grime and oil and sweat, and Steve’s eyes involuntarily tracked the way Tony’s hand mussed his dark brown hair to leave an oily sheen in it.

It took him a few minutes to realize what he was doing – which was basically ogling – and Steve shook himself to get back on track and hand Tony his food since he hadn’t eaten anything all day.

Which was worrying, and so Steve definitely shouldn’t be eyeing up his teammate and new friend like this. He should instead give him his food and leave before he did anything regrettable.

Like lick a stripe up the back of Tony’s neck.

When he realized what had just entered his mind, Steve hastily put the plate of food down by Tony’s elbow, blurted out that he should eat and not feed it to the ducks, and hightailed it out of the workshop.

He didn’t miss the way that robot with one arm waved a dirty rag as if telling him goodbye.

* * *

**Four**

The second time Steve saw Tony in nothing but a grungy tank top was two weeks later at five in the morning.

Steve had gotten up for an early run, prepping with a pre-workout snack when Tony wandered in, bleary-eyed and rubbing his face with one hand while he meandered over to the coffee machine and turned it on. He didn’t seem to notice that Steve was there, which was just as well seeing as how Steve’s spoon had stopped halfway on the path to his mouth and wasn’t moving.

As Tony reached up to get a mug from the cabinet, Steve’s eyes unerringly landed on the strip of skin the movement revealed. It looked pale in the dim light, and Steve was struck with the urge to stroke it.

That was when he noticed he was still holding up his spoon. He abruptly put it back in the yogurt, inexplicably embarrassed.

Something had Steve remain silent while Tony filled his coffee mug and took a long drink. The movements of his throat were hypnotizing, and Steve was barely aware that he was once again staring – probably with his mouth open like an idiot.

It would be so easy to stand up and go over there and put his mouth to his pulse point—

Steve jerked upright, nearly tipping his chair over as he jumped to his feet.

He barely noticed the way Tony jumped and stared at him, wide-eyed. “Steve—”

“I’m gonna go,” Steve said, sounding rather high-pitched to his own ears as he bolted.

He heard a bemused “You forgot your yogurt?”, but he wasn’t going to go back in there and risk jumping Tony like a sex fiend.

No.

* * *

**Three**

The third time happened when Bruce was also in the workshop.

Steve had come down with a request for Tony to please take back the TV he’d installed in the living room because it was creeping everyone out with catcalls, but he’d stopped dead and forgotten what he wanted to say when he caught sight of Tony’s rippling arm muscles as he moved what looked like a cooling unit with the help of Dummy.

Steve’s mouth went dry, his heart skipped several beats before picking up pace to beat a rapid staccato against his ribs, and heat curled in his stomach. Unthinkingly, his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

His eyes tracked Tony’s movements across the workshop until he saw who else was helping Tony out: Bruce. The sight jarred Steve back to himself, and he covered his face with a hand to hide his burning cheeks. Bruce hadn’t seen, but that didn’t mean Steve was in the clear yet.

Natasha had threatened to put a shoe through the TV the next time it tried to put the moves on her, and Steve had just managed to stop her with the promise that he would get Tony to remove whatever he had done.

Marshaling his courage, Steve input his access code and pushed the door open. Neither Bruce nor Tony noticed him, and Steve took the opportunity to better study what they were putting together.

It was a large machine that looked too much like one of those MRI machines. Steve hoped that the two weren’t trying to make some sort of faux-hospital in the house, because if that was the case, no one would ever go to a hospital when they actually needed to.

The worry flew out of his head the moment Tony turned so that his back faced Steve and bent over, giving Steve a very lovely view of his shapely behind. Those jeans were really something.

Steve only noticed he was gaping like an idiot with his lips parted and everything when Tony stood, and Steve saw Bruce’s raised eyebrows.

Oh shit.

“Steve?” Bruce prompted, his voice thankfully giving nothing away.

“Er…” Steve’s mouth worked for several moments, and he swallowed thickly when Tony turned to him, giving him a beautiful view of his flushed and sweaty face.

“You need something?” Tony asked, thankfully completely oblivious to the ogling Steve had been indulging in not even a minute ago.

The amused look Bruce shot his way had Steve finding his voice in time to blurt out, “The TV. Can you look at it?”

“Is there something wrong with it?”

“It keeps…catcalling us.”

“Huh.” Tony rubbed his cheek thoughtfully, leaving a streak of grime across it that Steve looked at for a few seconds too long. “That’s new,” he said finally.

Bending down, Tony picked up a large wrench that lay at his feet and moved to rest it on the machine. This gave Steve a perfect view of his muscles, and he had to hurriedly think about Nick Fury naked on the Helicarrier. Which didn’t work at all.

Steve was thankfully saved by the intercoms crackling to life and Clint shouting, “ _Get your ass up here, Stark! Your TV is **stalking us**!_ ”

There was a loud wolf whistle, a distinct Russian curse from Natasha, a shattering sound, and then JARVIS said, “Agent Romanov has attempted to smash the television with her shoe. It is now insisting on a ‘kinky BDSM romance just like that _50 Shades of Grey_ crap.’” The swear sounded odd in JARVIS’s proper English tones, and Steve couldn’t remember ever hearing him curse before.

Tony was frowning now. “It wasn’t supposed to do that.”

Steve resisted the urge to ask what it was _supposed_ to do, because there was no feasible reason for a TV to have working legs or be able to sultrily suggest a threesome with the hot toaster living in the kitchen.

“Then what was it _supposed_ to do?” Bruce asked.

“Something,” Tony answered vaguely, and then he rushed past Steve to leave the workshop. His bare skin brushed Steve’s arm, and Steve had to stiffen to stop himself from reaching out and _touching_. Still, he couldn’t stop his eyes from tracking Tony until he disappeared from view.

It wasn’t until Bruce gently touched him on the shoulder that Steve remembered he wasn’t alone.

“I suppose I should wish you good luck,” Bruce said.

Steve blinked. “What?”

With a wry smile, Bruce patted Steve’s shoulder. “Good luck.”

Bruce was gone before Steve could ask “With _what_?”, leaving him alone with Dummy, who offered him a green smoothie in sympathy.

Not having anything else to do with his hands, Steve took it. As his fingers touched the cool glass, he distinctly remembered seeing Tony guzzle this drink down in the kitchen one time. For some reason, his memory highlighted the way Tony’s throat muscles had worked as he swallowed the thick liquid.

With a quiet gulp, Steve realized he couldn’t possibly be anymore screwed than he already was.

* * *

**Two**

The fourth time happened in the gym when Steve was training with Clint.

Tony had wandered in, grabbed a towel, and wandered back out, looking completely delicious and mussed up, and Steve really wanted to go over and – Clint was looking at him strangely.

Steve was just about to suggest they get back to sparring when Tony walked back in, a punching bag shaped like a Dalek literally floating behind him. He set it up where Steve usually demolished punching bags and then left, leaving both Steve and Clint gaping after him this time.

“What the fuck?” Clint asked.

“That’s a Dalek, right?” Steve said, trying to distract Clint from what he had seen Steve doing first.

“No, what the fuck?” Clint repeated. “You and Tony? You know that’s something likely to blow up in your face, right?”

“There’s nothing going on!” Steve said defensively.

Clint looked at him pityingly now. “You poor bastard.”

“What?”

His only answer was a shrug. “Natasha owes me fifty bucks.”

“For _what_?”

“You poor bastard,” Clint repeated. “You wanna stop sparring? You can go after Tony and ravish him like one of those cheesy romance novels—”

Steve had never before knocked someone down so fast.

* * *

**One**

The fifth time Tony sauntered past in jeans so low that his hipbones were visible and a tank top so thin it was practically see-through.

By the time Steve managed to pick his jaw up from the floor and get his unfortunate problem downstairs under control, he realized Natasha had been in the room the whole time.

She gave him an utterly unimpressed look and informed him that he and Tony had better have sex in the next week or she was locking them both in a broom closet.

The frightening thing was that she was completely serious.

* * *

**And One**

The day after Natasha issued her ultimatum, Steve armed himself with a steaming cup of coffee exactly the way Tony liked it (JARVIS might have helped him out a bit) and a plate of scrambled eggs and toast. He encountered a small problem when he caught sight of nothing but Tony’s legs from under a really shiny car, but thankfully it was just Tony’s very nice legs. If it had been his arms in that tank top, Steve didn’t know what would have happened.

He managed to input his access code and set the plate and mug down on the nearest available surface, shooing Dummy away as he did.

Looking down at the legs poking out from under the car, Steve swallowed thickly when Tony rolled out enough to show that his tank top had ridden up enough for some skin to peek through. His mouth went completely dry, and he had to take a deep breath and tell himself to calm down.

Clearing his throat, Steve managed to say in a perfectly even tone, “Tony?”

“Hm?” Tony sounded distracted.

“You should eat.”

“Yeah, yeah…” The strip of skin disappeared as most of Tony rolled back under the car. “Hey, Dummy, hand me that socket wrench.”

Waving Dummy off, Steve crouched down to pick up the indicated socket wrench and hand it to Tony, unable to resist brushing his fingers against Tony’s.

The skin contact had Tony pause, and he rolled out from under the car to look up at Steve in surprise. “You’re not Dummy.”

“No.” Steve couldn’t help a small grin. “But you need to eat.”

Taking a step back as Tony pushed to his feet, Steve found himself frozen as he followed the captivating ripple of Tony’s muscles while the other man stretched to his full height. Eyes dropping to the low-lying sweatpants Tony was wearing, Steve swallowed again when Tony stepped towards the food Steve had brought.

This wouldn’t even have been such an issue if it was just about Tony’s body, but Steve really _liked_ Tony. And he didn’t want to mess this up just because he desperately wanted to jump his friend’s bones.

“You know,” Tony said, leaning a hip against the table as he bit off a large mouthful of buttered toast, “contrary to popular belief, I _can_ feed myself.”

“Right,” Steve said, attention fixed on the way the sweat glistened on Tony’s collarbones. His eyes trailed up Tony’s neck and caught on a long streak of grime on his cheek – probably from him rubbing his face in thought.

“But I’m not protesting,” Tony continued, waving the half-eaten toast around, “because this is pretty good.”

“Mm.” The strip of skin right where the tank top was scrunched up was really distracting Steve.

“So about that TV issue we had a few weeks ago,” Tony said, finishing up the toast and licking his fingers afterward, “I think I found the problem.” He picked up the fork with his other hand, thumb still half in his mouth. “I accidentally installed a rudimentary AI in it—”

Then Steve was right behind Tony, hands fitting into place at Tony’s hips like they’d been made for this, and he leaned in to press his nose in the space behind Tony’s ear, inhaling deeply, taking in the scent of metal, sweat, oil, and _Tony_. He pressed his lips there a moment afterwards, trailing them down until he could finally lick a stripe up Tony’s neck the way he had first imagined _weeks_ ago.

“Steve?” Tony’s voice, high-pitched and surprised and half-strangled, jolted Steve out of his trance, and he realized with horror that he was pressed bodily up against Tony, his mouth pressed against Tony’s neck in a decidedly unchaste kiss. “What are you doing?”

Steve jerked away like he’d been shocked, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to put space between them. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to do that but it’s just that _tank top_ and I’ve been thinking about it for weeks but I wasn’t actually going to _do_ it and I like you too much to throw this away and I’m sorry, can you please—” A sudden mouthful of toast shut him up.

“You good?” Tony asked, mouth quirked in that small amused smile that tended to drive Steve almost as crazy as seeing him walk around in that tank top.

After swallowing, Steve said, “I’m good.”

“Good. So let me get this straight.” Tony’s hand was on Steve’s bicep. “You like me and you’ve been wanting to jump my bones for weeks?”

Steve hesitated, prepared to lie, but the warmth in Tony’s eyes soothed him enough that he gave in. “Yes.”

“Oh, thank God.” That was all the warning Steve had before Tony yanked him down into an absolutely filthy kiss.

Between whatever the hell Tony was doing with his tongue and the absolute giddiness coursing through Steve, it took him longer than it should’ve for him to pull away and gasp, “W-wait.”

Tony had moved to sucking a hickey on his neck in a spot far too high for any of his normal shirts to cover it. “Yes?”

Steve groaned, knees nearly buckling when Tony found that sensitive spot right behind his jaw. “T-this is okay?”

“Yep.” Tony’s tongue darted out to press against that sensitive spot.

“You’ve never—” Steve collapsed back against the table, fingers tightly wound in the white cloth of Tony’s tank top.

Tony pulled away from Steve’s neck long enough to look him in the eye and say, “I thought you weren’t interested.”

Dazed, Steve blinked at him. Not interested? All Steve had been doing for weeks was literally pant after Tony the moment he entered a room with that damn tank top on!

“But apparently I was misreading the signals,” Tony continued, darting in to plant a chaste kiss against Steve’s lips. “So why don’t we make up for lost time?”

Steve was just about to ask about those misread signals when Tony took full advantage of his open mouth to draw him into another filthy kiss, eliciting a surprised moan. Steve managed to pry his fingers loose of Tony’s tank top long enough to slip them under and trace them over those gorgeous back muscles.

Later, Steve thought, he was going to have Tony lie down and let Steve draw him.

But that would come later. Much later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think?
> 
> About that TV...it was in the workshop when Tony and Steve were making out, and when they were done, it walked up to them and congratulated them on their technique and offered some tips.
> 
> EDIT: There's sex in the next chapter if you want to check out my first attempt at writing it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I got a request over on FF for Steve to draw Tony, so I figured I could do that and try to add sex while I'm at it because I have to start _somewhere_ , right? RIGHT?
> 
> And without further ado, I present it. My first sex scene.
> 
> I must thank marmotje for being a sympathetic ear and listening to my crying when I was writing this. Neither of us had any idea how to do a sex scene, but she was a great help for cheering me on.
> 
> (The TV insisted on being included; don't look at me.)

“Can I draw you?”

“Like now?”

“Well…” Steve flushed lightly, eyes dropping momentarily before lifting to meet Tony’s.

“Oh, you mean _naked_.” Tony looked like all his Christmases had come a year early. “Where do you want me?”

“Naked and sweaty!” the TV hollered.

Tony flapped a hand in its direction without looking. “You shut up.”

“Talk dirty to me, baby. You know how hot it gets me.”

“Shall we have another seminar on sexual harassment?” JARVIS asked primly.

“Red light!” the TV screeched, its screen flashing blue in indignant protest before it walked out as fast as possible.

Steve stared after it. “Should we?”

“Nah. JARVIS’s got it.” Tony waved a dismissive hand, his not-so-inconsiderable focus zeroed in on Steve. “So?” he prompted.

It didn’t take Steve much time to remember the original topic. “The bedroom?”

“Why, Captain,” Tony purred, grinning sinfully and making Steve’s heart skip several beats, “are you going to draw me like one of your French girls?”

“You’re the first,” Steve said painfully honestly, mouth dry.

Tony didn’t say anything, but his eyes softened. He leaned in to kiss Steve softly on the cheek, and Steve felt his cheeks warm.

“You want to do this now?” Tony asked quietly, his breath fanning Steve’s ear.

There was no one else around and hadn’t been for hours, undoubtedly because they’d sensed that something would be going on that should not be walked in on. It had only been a day since Steve had jumped Tony in his workshop, but it seemed like so much longer.

“Do you mind?” Steve’s fingers twitched in eager anticipation. The thought of capturing Tony in all his beauty on paper – and sans _clothes_ – was something Steve had only dreamed of.

“Hell, no.” Tony shot him a grin that practically turned Steve’s bones to liquid mush.

It was great force of will that Steve pulled himself together enough to follow after Tony.

“Your room or mine?” Tony asked over his shoulder.

Steve’s brain stuttered momentarily at the thought of Tony stretched out on his bed, his sheets molded around Tony’s body and his muscles rippling while he rolled under Steve.

Or on top. Steve really wasn’t picky.

“Steve?” Tony’s voice was gentle, and it brought Steve back to himself long enough to realize he’d been quiet a moment too long.

“My room,” Steve said quickly, feeling warm all over. His little daydream still drifted at the edges of his awareness, but that wasn’t the only reason. His drawing supplies were in that room, so it was most convenient to go there.

“Okay,” Tony agreed, stopping long to wait until he could unexpectedly palm Steve’s butt and give him a deep kiss.

There was a loud wolf whistle from behind them. “Can I join?”

Tony pulled away from Steve, a faint frown on his face. “JARVIS?”

“My apologies, sir.” JARVIS addressed the TV next, “I am aware of no less than a hundred different ways to take you offline permanently.”

“You shall not catch me, Count Olaf!” the TV screeched. It ran off before either Tony or Steve could blink.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “What has it been watching?”

“Some really bad movies.” Tony’s lips twitched. “And porn. A lot of porn.”

Steve wondered how the TV had gotten hold of porn just like that without alerting anyone.

He made a surprised noise a second later when Tony’s hand tightened on his butt. “Tony?” He sounded rather breathless.

Tony shot him a devilish grin, completely aware of the effect of his presence on Steve. “Shall we get started? JARVIS will make sure our little troublemaker doesn’t interrupt us.”

“I shall endeavor to do my best, sir,” JARVIS said. “The television is currently attempting to draw the toaster into ‘a love match of truly epic proportions.’”

“Let me know how that works out,” Tony said, placing a warm kiss against the sensitive spot behind Steve’s jaw line that had him shivering.

“Shouldn’t we be worried?” Steve asked, unable to keep the quiver out of his voice.

“About the TV?” Tony gave a dismissive scoff. “Has to learn about heartbreak one way or another.” He looked up at Steve through half-lowered eyelashes. “I’m much more interested in you.”

Steve’s eyes darted down to Tony’s lips, which were flushed and marked from all the making out they’d been doing. And right on the side of his neck was a deep hickey Steve had spent a good ten minutes worrying at.

“Are you?” His voice was husky.

Tony’s grin was quicksilver, and he leaned in to place one more warm, lingering kiss right where Steve couldn’t help but shudder. “I am.” The words were a whisper.

And that was it. Steve shifted enough so he could heft Tony up and carry him to the bedroom. Tony let out a surprised laugh and wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck.

“Impatient?”

Steve didn’t answer in favor of opening his door and slipping inside the room. Once the door was shut, he set Tony down, turning around and pushing him up against it, dipping his head to capture Tony’s mouth in a deep kiss. His hands slipped up Tony’s waist and under his tank top to trail over the knobs of his spine.

Tony bit at Steve’s lower lip, hands tangling in the strands of Steve’s hair and tugging sharply enough that Steve let out a gasp, his head tilting back. He whimpered when he felt teeth graze against his pulse point shortly before Tony started sucking.

“ _Tony_ …” His voice was far too breathy for the little amount of necking they’d been doing.

And then Tony stopped, pulling away despite the half-voiced protest Steve let out. He was breathing heavily and his pupils were so dilated only a rim of brown remained.

“You wanted to draw me?” He sounded entirely too unaffected for Steve’s taste.

Two could play at that game, though.

Taking a deep breath, Steve told himself to calm down. A certain part of his anatomy was unwilling to cooperate as well as it should have, but Steve was comforted with the fact that even Tony couldn’t hide his excitement in that area.

“Right.” Steve was proud how even his voice was.

Tony’s lips slanted up into a small smile. “How do you want me?”

 _Now_ , Steve almost said, but that wasn’t right. On his bed was a definite yes, but not for sex. Not at the moment anyway.

Though Steve didn’t know how he’d be able to resist with those gorgeous muscles on display.

“On the bed,” Steve said eventually, forcing himself to take a step back and think about what exactly he wanted to do.

“Clothes?”

Steve hesitated for only a second before saying, “Take it all off.”

Tony inhaled sharply before taking hold of his tank top and pulling it off in one smooth motion, holding Steve’s gaze the entire time. The heat in his eyes had Steve shifting uncomfortably as his erection rubbed painfully against his jeans. And when Tony slipped his thumbs inside the waistband of the sweatpants and slowly slid them down, Steve found himself swallowing hard.

He was _not_ jumping Tony. Not before he got what they had come in here for in the first place.

Tracing his eyes up Tony’s slim and well-defined legs, Steve met Tony’s dark eyes. “Lie down on the bed,” he said before Tony could ask.

Tony threw him a sultry smirk but said nothing, turning to walk to the bed and giving Steve a beautiful view of his well-defined ass.

Pad. He needed his sketchpad and pencils.

Tearing his eyes off Tony leisurely stretching himself out on the bed, Steve went to his desk and picked up the sketchpad and pencil he always had lying there. He pulled the chair over to the side, giving him a perfect view of the bed and Tony lying like a king in it.

Tony had stretched out to lie on his side, propping his head up with a hand. He was utterly shameless and completely confident, a lazy smirk pulling at his lips.

“This good?” he asked.

“Uh…” The words stuck in his throat, and he glanced down at his sketchpad, quickly flicking it open to a blank page. “On your stomach?”

Tony wordlessly complied, the movement doing all sorts of sinful things to his muscles.

“Rest your weight on your elbows?”

Thankfully Tony didn’t need any further instructions, propping himself up on his elbows, the motion defining every muscle in his back. He shot Steve an amused grin upon seeing the way he swallowed.

“That’s – that’s good.” Aside from the stutter, Steve’s voice was even. He looked down at the blank sheet and put his pencil down to it, eyes flickering up to Tony ever so often as he carefully began to outline his lover’s general shape.

Tony was amazingly still. For someone so filled with energy and practically incapable of sitting down for a board meeting, he showed no sign that being so still was a hardship. His eyes were half-lidded and dark, and a small smile tugged at his lips.

Steve remained focused on the movement of his pencil over the sheet, eyes flickering back and forth between the outline on his pad and the actual person lying in his bed. Now that he was in the groove, it was so much easier to focus on the actual act of drawing and not on the pure sexual appeal Tony oozed. He was still hard and aching, but it was inconsequential next to the act of putting Tony to paper for the first time like this.

He rubbed a thumb over the lines of Tony’s back, smudging the lead a tad to match with the natural shadows playing over Tony’s muscles.

Tony’s face was the last thing he drew in. He started with the outline of his eyes, the most expressive part of Tony. He could see worlds in those eyes whenever he tried.

Then came his eyebrows and the line of his nose and his lips. The very last thing he drew in were Tony’s eyes themselves, glinting with arousal and sharp intelligence and warmth. It was that last that drew more shivers from Steve than anything else.

Tony noticed, and he tilted his head slightly to the side, lips parted a hair’s breadth. “Done?”

Steve’s tongue darted out to wet his lips, and he looked down at the almost finished drawing. There were parts that were still rather sketchy and other places where the shading could be smoother, but Tony’s face – the most important part of the drawing – was done.

Gaze flickering back to Tony, Steve carefully placed the sketchpad aside and set the pencil next to it. Then in one smooth, sinuous motion, he stood and approached the bed, Tony meeting him halfway in a deep kiss.

Tony’s mouth was hot and wet, his tongue deftly encouraging Steve’s to join in the proceedings, and his hands tugged at Steve’s shirt, drawing it over his chest. They parted long enough for the article of clothing to be discarded before meeting again, Steve pressing Tony down into the mattress this time.

One hand tangled in Tony’s dark hair, the other sliding over Tony’s chest and running fingers over the scars from the surgery he’d had to remove the arc reactor and shrapnel. Steve didn’t linger, tracing out a path to Tony’s nipples, drawing out pleased moans.

“Pants,” Tony murmured against Steve’s lips. “Take your pants off.”

Panting, Steve lifted his hips enough to give Tony room to push them down. He kicked them off as soon as he could, returning his attention to Tony’s lips.

Tony’s hands smoothed over Steve’s back, digging in-between his shoulder blades, and he arched, pressing up against Steve. His erection slid against Steve’s, drawing moans out of both of them.

Steve broke away from Tony’s mouth to trail kisses down Tony’s neck, licking the hollow of Tony’s neck and nipping at his collarbones. He moved down to kiss Tony’s shoulder, a hand moving underneath Tony to explore how his muscles shifted with each and every movement.

And then he was on his back, dazedly looking up at a grinning and flushed Tony.

“Isn’t this better,” Tony purred, rubbing his hands over Steve’s breasts and tweaking his nipples. He leant down to nip playfully at Steve’s lips. “What do you want?” he whispered against them.

“What?” Steve could barely think.

“What”—Tony accompanied the word with a sinuous roll of his hips that had Steve bucking—“do you”—he lightly bit Steve’s neck—“want to do?” He grinned playfully up at Steve, eyes dark with arousal.

Steve surged up to tangle a hand in Tony’s hair and pull him into a hot kiss. “Just this. This.”

Tony reached down to grasp hold of Steve’s erection, his calloused palm creating beautiful friction against the sensitive skin. He thumbed beneath the head, laughing breathlessly when this caused another buck of Steve’s hips.

“Tony,” Steve groaned, his head dropping to Tony’s shoulder. “Please.”

“Please what, darling?” Tony stroked once, teasingly, this time pulling at Steve’s foreskin.

“Please stop teasing.” Steve gasped into Tony’s warm skin, biting down on his shoulder with a muffled moan when Tony’s grip tightened.

“Lie back for me,” Tony murmured in Steve’s ear.

Steve dropped so fast that he would’ve felt embarrassed if he wasn’t so desperate for Tony to just _move his hand_.

“That’s it, babe.” Tony leaned down and kissed him, working his lips open and drawing Steve’s tongue into his mouth and sucking it. His other hand – the one that wasn’t currently gripping Steve tight and playing with his foreskin – trailed over Steve’s chest and tweaked his nipples before tangling in the hairs at Steve’s nape and pulling.

“ _Tony_.” Steve gasped helplessly, bucking desperately into his grip. “ _Please_.”

“There’s so much I want to do to you,” Tony said, shifting so his entire body was pressed against Steve. “I’ll be so good for you, Steve; I’m gonna blow your mind—”

The words fell out of Steve’s mouth before he could stop them: “Then why aren’t you doing it?”

Tony laughed, grinning. “Cheeky.”

Steve reached up to cup the back of Tony’s neck and pull him into another wet kiss, this time pushing his own way into Tony’s mouth. He reached down to grasp hold of Tony’s erection, enjoying the bitten off moan the action elicited. He twisted his wrist, thumbing the underside of the head and sliding his thumb through beads of pre-come. Steve was just as wet, if not more so with all the teasing Tony had been doing.

“Okay.” Tony gasped into Steve’s mouth, hips grinding against Steve’s. “No more teasing.”

Steve’s reply was lost in a wordless cry as Tony batted away his hand and wrapped both of their erections in one very skilled hand and started stroking.

It was messy and graceless. Their rhythm faltered more than once, and Steve could no more stop the whimpers and moans than he could keep his eyes off Tony’s face.

Flushed and panting and gleaming with sweat, Tony grinned down at him before dipping his head to lick into Steve’s mouth, grinding his hips into Steve’s.

It was Tony brushing his hand down Steve’s ass and pressing clever fingers against his perineum that did Steve in.

He came, his entire body arching in a bow as pleasure coursed through every single one of his senses. He might have cried out loud; there was no way to be sure.

“Oh, _fuck_ , Steve.”

Warm liquid splattered onto Steve’s stomach, and he collapsed back on the bed in a dazed mess. He could feel Tony’s warm weight resting on him and the sloppy kisses pressed against his collarbones.

“That was so damn hot,” Tony muttered against his skin. “You should’ve seen your face, Steve.”

Tiredly, Steve moved a hand to stroke it through Tony’s hair. He opened his eyes, not realizing he’d closed them in the first place.

He shifted his leg, pressing it up against Tony. Instead of meeting the hard length he’d expected, he touched something soft. Surprised, his eyes met Tony’s, who was grinning rather dopily.

“Came right after you,” Tony said, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “You looked amazing.”

Steve huffed out a breathless laugh.

“No, don’t.” Tony half-heartedly slapped a hand against Steve’s chest. “You were awesome.”

“I’m glad,” Steve said softly, pressing a soft kiss to Tony’s temple. The mess on his stomach was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable.

As if reading his mind, Tony grabbed a corner of his sheet and rubbed it over Steve’s stomach and then his own, wiping away most evidence of their earlier activities.

“Tony,” Steve said, not able to bring himself to sound as chiding as he should.

“We can do the next round in my bed,” Tony said, snuggling up against Steve and drawing up the rest of the blankets to cover themselves with.

Steve’s heart skipped a beat at the thought, and Tony gave a small smirk, pressing a soft kiss into Steve’s neck.

“I can wear the shirt,” Tony said into his skin. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were looking at it.”

“I’m sold,” Steve said, turning so he could properly kiss Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Is it as crappy as I think it is? Please let me know now so that I can decide whether or not to put more practice in before I inevitably write that sex scene for the mutant!Tony series.
> 
> To everyone who follows me on tumblr, thank you for being so understanding with my increasingly panicked text posts before I eventually just gave up and posted an excerpt. (monicaop21, this means you. <3)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt fill for nightwalker (onemuseleft on tumblr), who asked for another part to this story where Tony keeps his tank top on.  
> And then sex happened. (Perhaps obviously.)
> 
> In some ways this was easier than the last one and in other ways it was harder. 
> 
> ...Is it bad? Please let me know if I committed a grave travesty while writing this.

Two days after that night, Steve could be found in the living room with the rest of the team sans Tony. They were watching _Harry Potter_ on a TV that hadn’t been modified by Tony. The other one had been relegated to wearing a sign that said “I sexually harass my betters” and put in timeout. Much to Steve’s surprise, even Dummy had been rather offended by the TV’s lack of manners. Tony’s explanation for that was that despite popular opinion, Dummy did have some manners; he just didn’t show them all that often.

“Farewell, my love,” the TV warbled, “I never knew ye.”

Clint tossed a cushion at it, not even bothering to look over.

“If I could count the ways I love youuuu—” Natasha’s shoe hit it dead center in the screen. “Ow.” It sounded completely miserable.

The only reason Steve didn’t feel sorry for it was because it had eventually turned up in front of their bedroom and started blasting romantic music at full volume.

A bemused Bruce had chased it off, having been called by JARVIS since he was still up and not naked like Steve and Tony.

JARVIS had sat the TV through another sexual harassment seminar, but it didn’t seem to have taken effect yet. Steve had heard Clint muttering mutinously about “conditioning the little bastard.”

Now the TV was in timeout, having been put there by Bruce; the sign had been donated by a gleeful Clint. Steve had no doubt Tony would love it.

The rest of the team was under no illusions as to what was going on between Steve and Tony. The morning after Clint had given them both a wolf whistle. Then the TV had sauntered into the kitchen, commented on Tony’s hickey, and scampered off before anyone could react. Steve had turned a scarlet color but kept his head high, simply quirking his eyebrows when Clint grinned knowingly at him.

Steve was just rather thankful that Thor was off with Jane; otherwise he was sure he would’ve been congratulated rather exuberantly on his sexual prowess. For some reason, Thor just _knew_ these things.

“Oh, _Harry Potter_?” Tony walked in, water bottle in hand. That was all Steve registered before taking in the fact that he was wearing _that_ tank top.

Tony stopped by the couch, raising an eyebrow at the sight of the TV. “I don’t want to know.”

“Best not,” Natasha agreed, not taking her eyes off the film.

Mouth dry, Steve’s eyes skimmed over Tony’s arms, lingering over where the cloth dipped low to reveal his collarbones. It made no secret of hiding his muscular shoulders and the way his arm muscles worked as he unscrewed the cap of his water bottle and began drinking. The movement of his throat muscles was even more enchanting than the film playing.

When Tony’s hand dropped to his hip, Steve’s eyes unwittingly followed, and he swallowed upon seeing how the gray sweatpants hung low enough on one side to tease at a strip of skin and a sharp hipbone.

“I just remembered,” Clint said suddenly, “I’ve got a lot of paperwork. So much work…” He slunk out before anyone could stop him.

“I have to go spy on someone,” Natasha said, leaving so quickly it was almost unnoticeable.

“I’ll…be in my lab.” Bruce grabbed hold of the sulking TV and dragged it out with him.

Steve barely noticed, swallowing thickly at the smoldering look in Tony’s eyes.

Tony tossed the now empty bottle onto an armchair, swinging a leg up to straddle Steve’s lap, smirking down at him. His hands landed on Steve’s shoulders.

Steve’s hands automatically came up to brace Tony, settling at his hips. His thumbs brushed under the cloth of Tony’s tank top, touching warm skin.

“Want something, babe?” Tony asked, ducking in to plant a chaste kiss on Steve’s forehead.

Steve’s throat worked as he fought to find his voice. When he finally managed to speak, the words came out hoarse. “You did that on purpose,” he accused with no real heat.

Tony hummed, brushing his thumb under Steve’s ear. “Did what?”

Steve leaned up to steal a kiss, not moving away as he whispered, “You know what.”

Tony tilted his head, mouth brushing the corner of Steve’s. Steve could feel the smug smirk. “Do I?”

“Yes.” Steve rolled, stretching Tony out underneath him on the couch. “You do.” He dipped down, catching Tony’s mouth in a deep kiss, hand slipping under that damn tank top to trace over fluttering stomach muscles.

Tony arched his head back, gasping out, “I’ll take your word for it.” His breath hitched invitingly when Steve nipped lightly at his pulse point, lingering to press his tongue against the fluttering skin.

“You _know_ what this does to me,” Steve said, pulling the tank top partly up to reveal more skin.

“Ah.” Tony’s eyes were dark as he grinned up at Steve. He interlaced his fingers behind Steve’s neck, pulling him down into another kiss, grinding up against him. His hard length was a burning brand against Steve’s thigh, and he couldn’t bite back a moan, shuddering as Tony deepened the kiss, tongues tangling.

“Honestly,” Tony said breathlessly when they pulled apart, “I forgot.”

Steve made a disbelieving noise, nosing under Tony’s jaw. There was no way.

“I wear this all the time,” Tony kept talking. “I’m not going to _stop_ , and what you’re doing right now is doing the opposite of persuading me otherwise – no, don’t _stop_.”

Steve resisted Tony’s efforts to pull him down. He moved a hand under Tony’s back, slipping it under the tank top and gently stroking warm skin. “Don’t stop wearing it.”

Tony arched an eyebrow, fingers tangling in the hairs at Steve’s nape. “This is going to happen again.”

“Probably.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Does it look like I mind?”

“Gotta admit, no.” Tony grinned lazily, rocking lightly up against Steve; their breaths simultaneously hitched. “So, here?”

The noise from the film had faded into the background by now, but Steve still looked around self-consciously. Sex in a semi-public place wasn’t something he was big into.

“Relax,” Tony said, grin softening into a warm smile. “I don’t think anyone’s gonna come in here for the next couple hours.”

“God, I hope not.” The words fell out of Steve’s mouth before he could stop them. “That would be awful.”

It seemed to take Tony a moment to understand what exactly Steve was referring to. His eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store. “Bad choice of words, I admit, but oh, _Captain_.”

“Steve.” Steve cut off further conversation by licking into Tony’s open mouth.

“Steve,” Tony agreed breathlessly when Steve broke apart to move down and nose along Tony’s neck and down to his collarbones. He moved restlessly under Steve, broken gasps and hitched moans escaping him as Steve teased him.

“Clothes?” Tony asked, fingers tangling in Steve’s hair.

Steve briefly stopped his exploration of Tony’s chest, considering. “Shirt stays,” he said finally, hooking his fingers in the waistband of Tony’s sweatpants and pulling them down.

“Oh _yes_ ,” Tony said, reaching to pop the buttons of Steve’s jeans. “Why are you wearing jeans?”

Steve didn’t bother to grace him with an answer, too busy marveling at the fact that Tony had gone commando.

“Next time I’ll wear my thong,” Tony said.

Steve’s brain stuttered and blanked. “Thong?”

“You’ll like it,” Tony promised. “It’s red.” He took advantage of Steve’s addled state of mind to flip them around, setting to work on fully ridding Steve of his pants and briefs.

In the meantime, Steve’s brain conjured up images of Tony in nothing but a lacy red thong. He was even harder than before, jolting in surprise when Tony wrapped a hand around his length and gently started stroking, thumb playing with his foreskin.

His dark eyes studied Steve intently. “You’re gorgeous.”

Steve felt himself flush, which was ridiculous since he was _already_ red with exertion and pleasure.

His hips rocked upwards, pushing his length into Tony’s hand.

“Beautiful,” Tony said softly, leaning down to press a sloppy open-mouthed kiss against Steve’s lips.

“Tony,” Steve protested lightly after they broke apart.

“It’s true,” Tony murmured, kissing the sensitive spot directly behind Steve’s ear and getting a delighted shiver.

Steve moaned, hands slipping up underneath Tony’s tank top to pull him close so he could hide his face in Tony’s shoulder. Tony ground down, hands tangling in Steve’s hair as he nipped Steve’s ear.

“T-Tony…” Steve buried his face in Tony’s neck, mouth searching out a patch of skin that he accidentally bit into the next time Tony ground against him.

“Oh, kinky,” Tony said breathlessly, groaning softly as Steve apologetically kissed the spot.

“Sorry,” Steve gasped, drawing back only to receive a warm kiss.

“Don’t be.” Tony flashed him a bone-melting grin. “All consensual here, babe.”

“Thank God – _oh_.” Steve arched up into Tony, jolting as clever fingers pinched a nipple.

“Sensitive?” Tony smirked, scooting down slightly. Then without warning, he dipped his head and took Steve’s nipple into his mouth, sucking.

Steve cried out, hands digging into the skin of Tony’s back. He buried his face into Tony’s dark hair, incomprehensible words escaping him as Tony continued his torture.

“Sensitive,” Tony repeated in a muffled murmur, almost as if he was noting down a set of calculations. The vibrations of Tony’s voice and the rough scratch of stubble and hair against Steve’s sensitive nipple almost tipped him over the edge right then and there.

“ _Tony_.” Steve pulled at him, not wanting to come until Tony was right there with him.

Tony let the other pull him into a messy kiss. “Someday”—he bit at Steve’s jaw—“I’m going”—he pressed a kiss to the side of Steve’s neck—“to see”—he created a dark bruise directly at the sensitive spot under Steve’s ear—“how far you can go.” He punctuated this statement with another deep kiss, this time sucking hard on Steve’s tongue, one hand twisting into Steve’s hair as he coaxed them both into an uneven rhythm.

One of Steve’s hands fisted the cloth of Tony’s tank top; the other clutched at Tony’s ass, hitching him even closer.

He was so close; he could feel pleasure coiling in the base of his stomach. His eyes had closed without his knowledge sometime in the last minute, and he forced them open, not wanting to miss a thing.

Tony’s face was deeply flushed; his eyes blown black and lips red and swollen from their kisses. A lock of his hair hung directly over his forehead. He was muttering half-formed words that sounded like mathematical calculations.

“Ah, _fuck_ , Steve—” Tony pressed his forehead against Steve’s, eyes squeezed shut and his entire body tensing as warm liquid splashed between them.

But it was Tony pulling at Steve’s hair and nipping at his new hickey that pushed him over the edge. Sharp pleasure coursed through every nerve of his body, and Steve thought he might’ve cried out.

When he slowly came back to himself, Steve found Tony stretched out on top of him, lazily tracing what felt like math equations onto his stomach. Steve dazedly ran a hand up and down Tony, eventually drawing to a stop directly in the small of Tony’s back.

“You’re really hot when you lose control like that,” Tony said, craning his head back to look Steve in the eyes.

“Mm.” Steve still didn’t feel quite up to coherent words.

Tony grinned lightly, reaching down for a moment to retrieve his sweatpants and wipe them off. “Next time we’re doing it again in a bed,” he said. “Awesome as this couch is, it’s too small for me to do half the stuff I want to.”

“Okay,” Steve managed.

Tony fell back into silence for a few more minutes, letting Steve gather his scattered thoughts.

Once Steve felt notably more coherent, although still too disinclined to move from his current spot from under Tony, Tony spoke again. “I’m never going to watch _Harry Potter_ the same way again.”

Steve hadn’t even remembered that the movie had been playing. He glanced over at the TV, only to see a black screen with simple words written on it: AGENT BARTON POLITELY REQUESTS THE COUCH BE DRY-CLEANED.

“Oh my God.” Mortified, Steve pulled a cushion over his face.

“‘Politely’?” Tony sounded incredulous. “Jeez, JARVIS. I’ll show him _polite_.”

Thankfully JARVIS didn’t respond. Steve wasn’t sure what he would’ve done to that.

“I think I’ll put this couch down in the shop,” Tony said thoughtfully, tracing circles on Steve’s stomach. “Put in an order for a new one, JARVIS.”

“Bed next time,” Steve said into the cushion.

“Sure thing, babe,” Tony said in a way that suggested he was just agreeing for the sake of it. Then again, he probably hadn’t understood Steve in the first place.

Reluctantly putting the cushion back, Steve looked down at Tony. “Should we move?”

“We’ve still got a good few hours,” Tony said, grinning far too maniacally for a man who had just experienced some very good sex. “What do you say to another round?”

It took Steve several minutes to make up his mind. The couch was already soiled, wasn’t it? And besides, he really didn’t feel like moving…

Rather than respond verbally, Steve pulled Tony up into a kiss, who gave a surprised but pleased sound before responding very enthusiastically.

Clint could go deal with his nonexistent paperwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seem to have a bit of a hair kink when it comes to Steve.
> 
> ...How was it?


End file.
